Irresistible Chapter 2: Sue
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Sam puts on Brittany's old Cheerios uniform. Wearing it does things to him...and to everyone who sees him in it. From a GKM prompt. Chapter 2: Sam learns the origin of the uniform from the one who gave it its powers: Principal Sylvester.


**A/N: Not a new fic; I'm reposting the chapters of Irresistible as individual stories so that they can each be tagged for the correct characters. If you're new to Irresistible and care about the plot (such as it is), you should read the stories in order.**

Sam walks into the locker room, and now he _knows_ something really weird is going on...because he pops an insta-boner at the sight of Principal Sylvester. Because his first thought isn't _Shit, I'm busted for being in the girls' locker room_ ; it's _Holy shit,_ _I have to fuck her._

She has his back to him. And, wow, he's never noticed her ass before, and _Oh, Jesus, Sam, stop!_ "I'm going to stop you right there," she says, not turning to look at him. "My contract makes it very clear that this locker room is reserved for my exclusive use between the hours of six and ten, so you'll need to turn around and just march yourself right out of here, missy."

Yeah. Yeah, turn around and march right out. Except he can't, because he wants her _so bad_. And so he stands there and tries not to stare at Sue Sylvester's ass, but he literally can't help it.

"I am practicing the ancient Buddhist art of medi-hate-tion, focusing all my hatred and channeling it toward the destruction of the glee club, so if you don't mind..." She turns around and her jaw drops as she takes in the sight of Sam in that cheerleader outfit, that damn sexy, irresistible cheerleader outfit. "Where did you get that?" she demands.

"I...uh..." Sam holds one of the skirt pleats between his fingers, but he still can't tear his eyes away from Sue. "It's Brittany's."

"I know it's Brittany's," she says. She clutches her throat and walks toward him. "What I asked you is...oh, never mind. I can barely expect a straight answer out of you under the best of circumstances. I'm sure it's pointless to even try before we knock boots."

"Before we...?"

Sue sighs, exasperated, and unzips her track suit jacket. Sam tries really, really hard not to look at her tits when she takes it off, but they're right there, and what else is he going to look at? And they're not that great—he really does realize that they're not that great because they're _Coach Sylvester's tits_ —but it doesn't even matter and he just really, really wants to touch them. "...and you're so busy ogling my bouncing Buddhas that you didn't hear a word I just said."

"Huh?" Sam asks.

She takes his face in her hand and forces him to look in her eyes. And she looks annoyed, like always, but then he expression actually softens for a second and looks affectionate, and then it turns to one of pure lust. "Listen carefully. You want me."

"I...uh...How did you..."

"And, god help, me I want you too."

"You do?" Sam asks. He feels himself smiling like an idiot. _Why_ is he smiling like an idiot over Sue Sylvester wanting him?

"Yes, and trust me, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can give me the uniform and we can start pretending this never happened." She grabs his ass and pulls him toward her so they're crotch-to-crotch, and they both gasp.

Sam really just wants to start fucking her, but he's actually managing to pay attention to what she's saying too. "Wait, so it's the uniform?"

"Of course it's the uniform. Unless Nurse Butterfingers McFumblepants gave you a charisma injection lately." Sue takes his hands and places them on her breasts and mutters, "Oh, yeah."

Sam knows...he _knows_ this should be way more disturbing than awesome. But still, it's pretty fucking awesome. Even more awesome is when it dawns on him that he can apparently get anyone he wants—specifically, someone hotter than Sue—to go crazy for him by just...what? Does he just have to wear the uniform, or...? "How does it work?"

"Good god, I _know_ those lips can be put to better use than talking right now. Just launch your torpedo into me until we both release our geysers of feel-good brain chemicals and feel-sticky genital chemicals—and, yes, ladies do release geysers, though I do your generation of boys doesn't realize that, which is why I gave up taking fifteen-year-old lovers when I turned thirty last year—and then we'll have a window of approximately nineteen minutes during which I can explain everything before the effects start again."

"What?"

"Oh my god, how much farther do I have to dumb it down for you? You see, you have a snake that wants nothing more than to be inside a nice, cozy cave—"

"Stop! Oh my god, stop right there!" Sam thinks about stuffing her mouth with his snake—his dick! his _dick_!—so she can't go on with her bizarre metaphors. "I know about sex. I just meant _what_ as in...approximately nineteen minutes? How do you know so much about it?"

"Why are you surprised?" Sue reaches under his spanks and gropes his ass. "Who else do you think could come up with such an ingenious scheme? Now why don't you just slip out of those clothes, hand them over, and we can enjoy our seven seconds in heaven and then go about our respective business?"

"Yeah," Sam agrees. She's got her hands on his chest now, and she's pushing the cheer top up, and it feels really disturbingly good, especially when her fingers brush over his nipples. But he has a sudden moment of clarity and he grabs her hands and stops her. "Wait, you can't have the uniform!"

"Don't be stupid," Sue tells him as she tries to pull her hands free of his. Failing this, she licks his neck and adds, "You wouldn't know what to do with it."

Sam turns her around and stands behind her so she can't keep doing stuff to him that make it hard to concentrate. Because he's not actually stupid and he's realized that if he wants to find out from her what's going on he's going to have to get her to tell him before they get to those nineteen minutes where the uniform is powerless and all she'll have to do is walk away if she doesn't feel like answering.

He holds one of her boobs in each hand and kisses the back of her neck, hoping it'll do more to her than it's doing to him (which is more than he will ever admit to anyone, weirdly powered uniform or no). She moans and starts to grind her track-suit-covered ass against his erection. Damn it! He wants to let her keep doing it, but he forces himself to twist so she can't reach him. "Tell me everything you know about the uniform."

"Orgasms first," Principal Sylvester insists.

"Orgasms never, until you tell me."

"You're bluffing," she says, squirming in his grasp. "You want it as bad as I do."

She's right, he's bluffing. But he thinks she's bluffing about knowing that he's bluffing. "I do want it," he concedes. He nibbles on her ear and whispers, "But not as bad as you do. I just came like ten minutes ago. How long has it been for you?"

She scoffs—or at least she makes a noise that's supposed to be a scoff. It sounds a lot more desperate than dismissive, though, and he knows he's got her. "So what if it's been more than ten minutes for me? I'm not a sixteen-year-old boy."

Sam's eighteen but he doesn't bother to correct her on that point. "Exactly," he says. "Who has more practice at not having sex when they really want to than teenage guys?"

She struggles a bit before ultimately surrendering. "Fine. But at least let me sit in your lap while I tell you."

Sam thinks about it for a second. "Fine. Sitting but no groping. And no dry humping."

"Fine." They take a few moments to get settled: Sue tries to sit facing him, straddling his thighs, but Sam will only allow her to sit sidesaddle on his lap. "Okay," she says, "I'm going to make this quick because I need your train in my station."

And there is no way a statement like that should turn Sam on, so he pretends it doesn't and agrees.

"The uniform has an aphrodisiac effect, as you've noticed."

"Aphrodisiac? That's like pheromones?"

"Yeah. Except real," Sue says, rolling her eyes.

"And you made it? The uniform? And gave it to Brittany?"

"That's right, Sammy Hardy. Now take out your—"

"Why? Brittany probably would have fucked you anyway." Not a nice thing to say about his ex-girlfriend, but true nonetheless. She once told him about some pretty explicit fantasies she had about Coach Bieste, so...

"I didn't create the uniform so I could seduce minors! Like I would've needed help for that!"

"Then why?"

"The orgasms. Every orgasm that Brittany—and the Cheerios who wore the uniform before her—had or caused a partner to have while wearing the uniform gave her a competitive edge. How do you think we won all those national championships? And why do you think my Cheerios were always smiling so hard after every practice?"

"They were fucking each other?"

"Yes, MacArthur genius. Well, and Brittany liked to branch out beyond her teammates. It turns out the greater variety of partners gave her an even better edge."

"But not because it hurt the other Cheerios, right? It didn't, like, drain their edgy energy or something?"

"Of course not, why would it? You watch too much bad sci-fi. If anything it made all my girls better competitors."

"But how does it work? What did you do to it?"

Sue sighs with exasperation. "I dipped it in a vat of phlebotinum, okay? Thta's a high-tech and _highly classified_ substance that if I tell you any more about I'll have to kill you. Now, I have had the exact maximum amount of precoital conversation that I can tolerate..." She takes his hand, which he's been clutching around her waist to avoid getting too carried away, and moves it between her legs. She soaked, all the way through her track suit and whatever ugly granny panties she's no doubt wearing underneath. Not that Sam cares in the least how hideous her underthings are, because he's also reached his maximum tolerance for precoital...anything.

Sam lets her up and she's out of the bottom half of her track suit before he knows it. She tries to rid him of the spanks, but he doesn't trust her with them and won't let them past his knees. She doesn't fight with him, she just sits in his lap again, facing him, taking his cock inside her in one go.

And it's so, so good—it's so good that he's completely forgotten that it shouldn't be good at all, it should be creeping him out big time. It was the waiting, probably, the trying to act like he didn't need it that bad, that makes it _such_ a relief to be fucking her now. They don't even manage to get much of a rhythm going, and actually Sam can't really move that much with the way his legs are trapped in the uniform spanks and the way Sue is holding him down against the bench.

None of that matters in the least, he just needs to come, he just needs to come so bad. And he's going to, and he can tell it's going to be epic, and he tries to brace himself.

Sue starts to come first. She's not that loud, and she doesn't even start humping him that much harder or anything (probably because it couldn't get that much harder), but he knows she's coming hard because he feels her muscles go crazy all over his cock. Sam screams, and then he muffles his scream by biting the shoulder of his principal as his dick pulses and unloads in her.

They both close their eyes and lean against each other while they catch their breath. Their postcoital tenderness is short-lived, however, and soon Sue climbs off his lap and orders him to face the wall while she puts her clothes back on. Sam is more than happy to comply, and he keeps his eyes squeezed shut just to be sure.

"Are you going to hand over the uniform voluntarily?" she asks. "You can turn around now, by the way."

"Hell no, I'm not giving it to you," Sam says. He turns and opens his eyes cautiously.

She points her index finger right at his face but fails to look threatening at all. "You're just lucky that my muscles are way too jelly-like at the moment to fight you for it.. But mark my words. If you _ever_ wear that thing in my presence again..."

"I won't!" Sam says. The sex was amazing, so he doesn't exactly regret it, but still he doesn't even want to think about repeating it. "Believe me, I won't."

Sue tries to give him the hairy eyeball before skulking out of the locker room, but, again, not threatening at all. As soon as she's gone Sam collapses back on the bench. As soon as his brain is functioning again he's going to figure out who to use this baby on next.


End file.
